My Favourite Game
by theglamourfades
Summary: John Bates was never a fan of games. Fate put a stop to his participation, but when it brings wonders he could never have imagined, he wishes that he could measure up more. AU after S6.


**A/N: Just a bit of fluff I came up with after being witness to something utterly adorable out in the real world. Of course, I was going to transfer it onto Anna and John (I know, I'm rather hopeless...). Set post S5, and post S6 in all honesty.**

**I don't own Downton Abbey, else this wouldn't just be a dream *sigh*.**

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He was never a big fan of games. If truth be told, he was glad that time had marched on and put him past all those pursuits. While footmen and hall boys engaged in their rowdy larks, shouting victories that faded as soon as they had been won, he sat comfortably at the table close to his wife, playing cards. They were quiet in contrast ensconced in their place in the hall, exchanging glances at one another between peeking at the values of their respective hands. John's attention wandered, finding better appeal in the diamond shine of the falling light as it fell upon her hair, his heart beating faster and soaring to reside in his gaze as it pinned to her for longer, the cards in his hands quite forgotten. When she smiled with a flourish, perfectly formed lips curving, he knew she had won – yet again – and he didn't mind being defeated for a moment, leaning back against the chair to bask in her glorious grin, so reminiscent of one glimpsed in the same spot years ago, dearly cherished in his memories. He frowned faintly at her suggestion there could be another round or two at the cottage but soon enough he realised she wasn't on about cards, and as her hand slipped into his, thumb trailing a path down his palm, the sweetness of a shared victory soon to be was all that consumed and delighted him.

Not four months later, the news that they had waited for gave them the most wonderful surprise. He almost didn't believe it at first and it took the blossoming of Anna's body, the gentle and steady swell of her stomach before his eyes, to truly convince him. He was to be a father to the child of the kindest, most beautiful woman on the earth, all of his greatest dreams growing as their unborn baby did.

Joy and a great deal of relief carried him along on the crest of a wave for weeks, assured that nothing was wrong after all. Then the small doubts took seed in his mind and he did naught to discourage them, watering them so they became stronger. Perhaps it would be too late for him to learn everything he would need to by now. His patience felt failing and it troubled him greatly.

The thing that bothered him most was not what he had expected, and it was foolish to ponder so much upon, considering there was very little he could do about it. He grieved at the fact that he wouldn't be able to run after and alongside their little one, kick a ball or jump to escape the swish of a skipping rope, kneel down upon the floor for longer than a few minutes to roll and laugh and cover them in kisses that said how grateful he was that they had decided to be.

Anna threw disapproving looks while he sulked in the armchair, his cane cast into the corner of the room like a devil mocking him. Her soft hands draped around his neck, her touch immediately soothing as she swept them to his shoulders. He selfishly relished the feel of her lips brushing by his ear, not needing to get closer to catch her words. Between whispers of his first name, which made him want to surrender to her in a second, she told him that everything would be fine. He could read to their child at morning and night, his hands always being there to tuck them safely into bed or comfort when they took a fall. He'd make them smile by sewing the ear back onto their favourite teddy bear and opening his arms for an embrace, keeping them as safe as possible.

He would love them more than anything else on this earth, with everything that he had in his heart, and that was what mattered most of all.

Her radiant smile brought forth his own, and he held her burst of laughter dear as he tenderly placed his hand over her large bump, still getting bigger by the day.

"The little one, and you," he reminded her, looking long into her eyes, finding home once more. "You both have all of my love, for always."

Now, some years down the line, there were three wonderful girls who had their claim upon him and he couldn't want for anything more. Sometimes he still wondered how he had been so very lucky, but there wasn't a day that went by that he didn't send up a silent prayer, despite his personal beliefs.

Today deserved an extra few blessings; as much as they loved working at the hotel, so proud of seeing what they had built up for themselves, having a day off was something that was welcomed by them both. Safe in the knowledge that all would be taken care of by the staff that helped them so diligently, Anna busied herself in the kitchen with a recipe book she had stumbled across just the other day, given to them as a present by Mrs Patmore on their leaving of Downton. In the parlour, John sat in front of a low kindling fire, making his way through a book Anna bought him for his birthday. It had been a couple of months ago now but being busy with a prospering business and two small children meant that he had only just got proper chance to pick it up.

He was getting rather engrossed when a series of small whimpers from not too far away roused him. Immediately he smiled towards the high-chair, watching his youngest wake from her nap. Tiny fists balled at eyes of brilliant blue, a tiny pout painted on rosebud lips. Pushing his sleeves back over his elbows he ambled over, unable to resist squeezing a pudgy foot in his palm before he lifted their second daughter into his arms. She fixed upon him straight away, making curious cooing sounds while he remained simply besotted.

"Welcome back, sleepyhead," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead and another against her dark, soft hair, bouncing her a little before settling her onto the settee's cushions, making sure her head was properly and comfortably cushioned.

The baby stared up at her father, little arms and legs waving. John followed the movements, loving each one more than the last, constantly amazed that there were two of them in the world, half of Anna and half of him. He was on the verge of crying with sheer joy constantly at their presence, thinking of all that he and Anna had overcome to be able to live in this way.

A flicker crossed his lips as the blanket that Anna had spent many evenings crocheting waiting for the baby's arrival came into his line of vision. The garment was soft as it threaded between his fingers, and he was sure that she was wiggling her little body in anticipation, chuckling at the sight that warmed his heart so thoroughly.

He watched her for as long as he could, the expression on her face changing when he hid his from view, the blanket unfurled and held firmly in his two hands.

"Where's Betsy?" he asked, his voice betraying a ring of apparent bemusement. "Where has she gone? She was here just a moment ago."

He kept himself concealed, hearing the gurgle escape Betsy's throat and wondering for a moment or two whether it would transform into a giggle or a cry. Slowly he lowered his hands, peeking out from behind the blanket until his face was completely revealed, eyes going wide with exaggerated surprise.

"Peek-a-boo! There she is!"

John broke into an unstoppable grin as his little girl gave him a gummy smile, yelps of laughter leaving her and running on for minutes. When they had nearly come to a stop, but not quite, he drew the blanket up again, resuming the routine. Both father and daughter were even more delighted than before, Betsy clapping her tiny hands to find that her daddy hadn't disappeared after all.

It was a game that never seemed to lose its appeal, a failsafe he relied upon when their youngest was tetchy or upset or simply in need of some amusement for the sake of it. The simple act made him just as happy, if not more, knowing that it was always enjoyed so much. The funny thing was that it was something that had been passed down; their eldest, Amelia, had loved it whenever John played peek-a-boo with her, and indeed, the game remained a favourite for years with her, many cheerful hours spent whiled away. John recalled them all with so much fondness that he could hardly contain.

It might not have been anything energetic or particularly complex, but that didn't matter in the slightest. Once again his fears had been broken down and he did what he thought was never possible.

Another precious smile from his baby girl pulled at his heart strings. Tickled by her reaction he placed his hand on her stomach, nearly covering her small body completely, dipping his head to blow a raspberry against the soft baby-gro.

"May I join in the fun?"

Anna's sweet voice at the doorway made a perfect accompaniment to the scene. John's eyes didn't leave his wife as she sauntered over, her hand pressing softly against his before she reached down to smooth it over Betsy's hair. Her apron was dusted with flour, yet he could still smell the fragrant lavender of the soap upon her partly bared arms, mingled with the scent that was simply _her_. Even after so many years, she looked as fresh-faced and as simply stunning as ever; her evergreen soul shone through, the greatest part of her blinding beauty.

They shared a kindling look with one another as John brought the blanket to obscure both of their faces. He dipped his close to hers, Anna's short giggle being silenced as their lips met in a quick, sweet kiss. His eyes smiled upon her, drinking in the satisfied and serene look that bathed her in an added glow against the afternoon sunlight streaming into the room. All three enjoyed a few more games, Betsy's little laughs encouraged more by the presence of her mother.

"Okay, little lady, that's quite enough of that for now," Anna sighed, her hands going around their daughter. "It's time for your bath."

Betsy promptly hid her face against Anna's shoulder in an attempt to carry on the sport, causing John to chuckle throatily.

"What have you been up to in there?" he asked, tracing the way his wife's eyes sparkled like the surface of a crystal sea in this light.

"Making meat and potato pie. One of Mrs Patmore's best," she announced proudly.

"I'm sure yours will be even more exquisite, my love."

Anna tutted briefly at her husband's sweet talk. "It'll be on the table for dinner when you get back, anyhow. With some tarts for afters, too, if I don't manage to burn the bottoms out of them again."

John smiled wide, running his finger over Betsy's small cheek and causing her to wriggle in Anna's arms. "Aren't we the lucky ones, Betsy, with your mother taking such good care of us?"

The little girl gurgled happily in response, letting out the odd yelp here and there.

"Go away with you," Anna pushed against his arm, giving him a look from beneath her eyelashes as she coloured lightly, John utterly charmed by her faint embarrassment.

He relished the feel of her lips upon his once more, holding her to him as she kissed him tenderly. A groan tumbled from his mouth when she pulled away too soon for his liking.

"She'll be left standing alone in the playground if we carry on any longer," Anna reminded him, rocking Betsy in her arms, her small smile towards him promising more in good time.

John nodded, leaving a kiss upon his wife and then his youngest daughter's forehead. The smiles he gave them both were stolen as he turned away, finding his cane waiting for him by the door. His fingers stroked the plain of the polished wood languidly before he took it into his grasp – he could only get by without it in the house, and even now he found he was relying on it more to walk from room to room, as much as he tried to avoid its use as much as possible.

His steps seemed to lumber more while he walked the way to the village school, not too far away from their hotel. He remembered fondly how its proximity was one of the deciding factors in their purchase, Amelia still being a babe in arms. The thought that she would ever need to leave the security of their embraces had been so distant then. The years had gone fast, as filled with wonderful memories and love as they were. Time could not be halted or frozen – once, they were quietly glad of that fact – and the tightness that inched around John's knee reminded him of it, bitter battling against the sweet. His limp had worsened to a degree he didn't wish to consider in recent months. Sometimes Anna pretended not to notice, and other times she urged him not to fret, the magic in her hands doing what they could to take his pain away.

He wished to fade away as other parents stood nearby, collecting their children one by one. A few passed him with smiles that he returned without lingering upon the pity barely concealed in their eyes. He gritted his teeth, not minding when littler gazes stared fixedly at the prop on his right side. At least children were honest in their fascination.

"Daddy!"

John looked up to see Amelia running towards him, her fair pigtails bouncing and the satchel that still seemed too big for her held to her shoulder. His heart lifted and lightened immediately, the grin easy upon his face as she threw her small arms about him, almost out of breath with her enthusiasm.

Her small hand sought his larger one out in a second, and he took it with pride as she beamed up at him, unable to contain all of the excitement she had within.

"Oh Daddy, you'll never guess what happened today!" she exclaimed, and he couldn't get over how much she sounded as well as she was the complete image of Anna.

"I'm afraid I won't, so you had better tell me," he returned with an urging smile.

Amelia proceeded to inform him of everything that had happened at school that day, from the new song they had learnt to the fact that she had got almost all of her sums correct. He basked proudly in her achievements, and laughed along with her as she told the story of how Billy Walker had left the door of the class rabbit's hutch open after he had fed it some lettuce and the last hour of the day had been spent with the class of fifteen children and their schoolmistress trying to retrieve Flopsy as she hopped here and there, away from everyone's clutches.

She walked carefully by his side, having learnt to keep in time with his slower pace. Though she had Anna's colouring, their eldest daughter had inherited his solicitous and sometimes too cautious nature. She was never one to prance away and get lost, more likely to be wandering in and out of the field of her thoughts. But little girls were precisely that, and every now and then her attention would be caught by the fluttering wings of a passing butterfly and she would race off to chase it, John left trailing behind to keep an eye upon her.

She weaved now along the pathways, her giggles upon the air as her feet bounced out of the way of the roots of trees. Though he was unable to run with her John lived through his little girl, happy to see her having such fun, unencumbered by the weights of the world.

Amelia came to a standstill by one grand tree, tracing the path of a ladybird as it moved along the ground. John was able to catch up with her, bending a little to fix the pigtail that had come loose. She laughed as the insect spread its tiny wings and flew up into the sky.

"Daddy, why don't you pick me up from school more often? I love when you do."

The innocent tone of her voice caused his heart to fracture. He couldn't help but be reminded of a walk down another path not a million miles from here some years ago, being met with a questioning look from almost the same eyes, and he found himself feeling just as regretful now as he did then.

"I'm very busy with the hotel, my sweetheart," he replied, the truth only distorted slightly. "I'm lucky that I could come today."

She scrunched her little brow as she stayed looking up at him, the shade of the tree's sheltering leaves meaning that it wasn't the sun making the back of his neck burn with heat.

"Is it because you're worried about your stick?" she questioned very softly, looking at the cane held in his hand.

John's gaze fell to the ground beneath his feet, rather ashamed that he had been trying to hide from his daughter when it was all so obvious. The thing that kept him as standing as tall as he was able to was the very thing that prevented him from playing properly with her, reducing him almost to a speck upon the earth. He could try, of course, but the thought that he would stumble with the first step, bringing him crashing down while she watched on, even reaching with her small hands to help him up, was too much to bear.

"You shouldn't be worried, Daddy," her voice caused him to look up again, the breadth of her smile causing his shame to retreat. "It shows everyone how brave you are."

He couldn't help but smile fondly, despite being a bit baffled by her reasoning.

"Mummy said that you got it when you helped Lord Grantham in the war, and that you were a hero. I know from the stories that Miss tells us that heroes have swords, and they're magic. It's your sword, Daddy."

He watched as her hand seized upon the cane, disappointed for her when it didn't transform into some other object upon her touch. At once he recalled a memory that had been kept safely in his heart, cherished for all of time, of Amelia's tiny baby fingers wrapping around it as he had rested it by the chair Anna used to nurse at the cottage, watching in awe at the miracle of life they had created.

"It does have some magic, but not quite enough," he told her, not wanting to dent her perfect dreams just yet. "Not enough that I can run with you, or dance. I wish it could, my darling. Maybe when I get a new one."

"I don't want you to get a new one," she shook her head firmly. "I like you just as you are, and your sword too."

Her joyful grin showed the space where one of her baby teeth had wobbled free.

"It doesn't matter that you can't do those things, Daddy. Mummy always says it's what here that is the most important. That you can do more with that than anything else." She pointed a finger to her chest against her small pinafore dress, not too far away from the spot where Anna had sewn a frayed stitch as good as new just the other day. "And you love me and Betsy and Mummy so much that you can do everything in the world."

John crouched down to her height, not minding about his knee for a moment while his little girl looked at him with adoring eyes.

"Millie, you are every bit your mother's daughter."

She simply smiled as he drew her closer, hugging her tight to his shoulder. All that he had dreamed about when they spent such time waiting and hoping to be blessed with children was a daughter with all the qualities that made him fall in love with his wife. And God knows he fell in love more each day with all of them.

Amelia's palm just about covered his thumb and a portion of the finger next to it. "And I can help you too, Daddy, if you need it."

He straightened his stance instinctively, buoyed by his daughter's affection.

"I think I'm alright for now, sweetheart," he said gently. "But do you mind if I hold your hand anyway?"

A grin that was brighter than the sun above came as the answer, and John kept her hand circled and safe within his as they walked the rest of the way home.

Home was the only place he wanted to be. After a dinner that passed without very minimal fuss and earned both of the girls a jam tart each – with Betsy getting most of the strawberry jam smeared over her cheeks rather than passing her lips – they were sitting upon the settee, Betsy propped up on pillows while Amelia sat with legs dangling over the edge, body turned towards her little sister though the pastel-coloured blanket shielded her face. Laughter filled the room and came spilling through the doorway, where John propped himself with his cane still in hand.

It wasn't too long before he felt a warm hand sliding around his middle. He threw a smile over his shoulder at Anna, looking fondly down to her height and sighing at the way she sank against his side. Both were wrapped up in observing the game between their daughters, Amelia leading masterfully and delighting Betsy with every second that passed.

"She thinks I'm some kind of knight, you know." John gave a nod to the cane that was placed upon the floor. "Because of this."

"You're far better than that." Anna smiled up at him, an audible rasp making him quiver. As he turned to look at her fully, the soft glint in her eyes turned him helpless. "But we both know that she's clever."

"And I wonder where she gets that from."

Anna replied without missing a beat. "From both of us."

John smirked as they mused upon their girls quietly, neither saying it aloud but both knowing that once they feared this life would never be. Neither of them could imagine life being any different now, and they cherished the downs as well as the ups, the latter of which there were considerably more of.

"She's growing up so fast," John heard a faint tremble in Anna's voice, one which wracked at him no matter that the cause was at its heart a happy one. "They both are."

A smile grew on his lips as he brought his palm to rest over her stomach, a little less flat than it was before once she had bore their two beautiful children. "It seems like only yesterday that the doctor told us. And that they were both thumping against my hand."

Anna smiled mistily at the memory, placing her hand against his, fingers slotting into the spaces that his left over her. "Millie had such a kick on her. I remember waking up in the middle of the night, wondering what on earth was going on in there."

As their eldest threw her head back in a laugh, sending her blonde hair flying about her, John pondered. So much joy she held in her small hands, waiting and wanting to be shared.

"I might give it a go, a few games of hide and seek around the garden. It couldn't do much harm."

He was met at once with a look of concern from the woman who stood below him but had more than enough tenacity to put him fiercely in his place. "John, you can't push yourself. None of us will thank you for it."

"Maybe a little bit of a push is exactly what I need."

Knowing some reassurance wouldn't go amiss, he squeezed her fingers in his palm before laying his lips upon the curve of her hand. Her gaze softened towards him, bringing her free hand up to smooth over his cheek.

Feeling suddenly more confident in his abilities, John arched his shoulders back, puffing out his chest as he considered. "Perhaps we could get a bit of practise in."

"John Bates," that soft and sweet voice uttered rather sternly, "if you think I'm in any fit state to go running about outside after a day's work then you're dafter than I've ever thought."

He smirked before his voice hushed to a whisper, breath hard against her ear. "It's not the only form of exercise. And certainly not the kind I had in mind."

Without the presence of their daughters in earshot, Anna couldn't even pretend to be scandalised. Instead she gave her cheeky husband a longing kiss upon his lips, falling into his arms as the warm-up began in its prolonged form.

Perhaps it was no surprise that they had another little one to teach their favourite game to some months later.

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**A/N: I think maybe in the fandom we make John's leg worse than it is, considering that on screen it doesn't seem all that bad...**


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